


Is it Fate?

by Little_Miss_Numbers



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Episode Retelling, M/M, Modern AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, pilot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 07:53:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3439421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Miss_Numbers/pseuds/Little_Miss_Numbers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically what it says on the tin, a modern day retelling of the pilot with a soul mate AU thrown in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Is it Fate?

On your 16th birthday, the name of your soulmate will appear on your forearm.

Tom was five when it was first explained to him. Sitting his mother's lap and looking at the name Owen Paris written in fancy loopy letter across his mother's arms, he asked her why she had it, and she explained. And then she explained how she met Owen, Tom's father, her first year of university, and how he had her name, Anne O'Neil written across his arm, and how he was sweet, and intelligent, and swept her off her feet.

"And when you turn 16," she explained, "the name of your true love will appear across your arm too."

And then she sent him out to play. 

Tom lived on a military base, so isolated the only other people for miles was a small Indian reserve. So the only children around for Tom to play with were either other army brats like him, or kids from the reserve. 

Tom was playing with a few other military kids, armed with this new information and happily writing names of friends across their arms with mud and sticks, and Tom playfully wrote the name of his best friend, Adam, on his arm.

"Hey look, this dweeb's got a boys name on his arm." laughed one of the kids from the reserve. He was older than Tom, so was his friend, probably about 8 or 9, and he towered over him. "What are you kid, some kind of fairy?"

"Bit young to be a queer, isn't he?" asked his friend, about the same age.

"They're never too young." said the first one. "They gotta start early." he grabbed Tom's friend Adam, who'd tried to make a getaway with the other kids and dragged him back. "What you don't want to stand by your soul mate? Not very romantic."'

"Maybe they should have a wedding." suggested the friend. "Since they're already destined for each other, why wait?"

Tom and Adam both struggled, and said they weren't really getting married but the two older boys were holding him tight. "Now we just need a priest." said the first. "A prince is like a priest right? Hey Billy!" He called to an even older boy, reading on the park bench.

"Hey Billy, we need your help.

The boy looked over and rolled his eyes. "Leave them alone, Shawn." he said. "Don't you guys have better things to do then terrorize little kids?"

"Oh come on, they're a couple of fairies, they wrote it all over their arms. Look at that."

Billy glanced down at the messy names written on each of their arms and frowned. "Leave'm alone." he repeated getting up and now and heading over, and if Shawn and his friend towered over Tom and Adam, Billy towered over all of them. "They're just being dumb kids."

"Alright, alright." said Shawn, letting go of Tom, and signalling to his friend to the same. "Come on, let's go find something fun to do."

Adam took off too before Billy made it over to them. He watched Adam go with a sigh before turning his attention to Tom. He dug into his bag and pulled out a handkerchief and started to clean off Tom's arm.

"Hey word of advice, kid, this isn't the kind of thing you want to go advertising around for the world to see."

Tom didn't really understand what Billy was talking about, but even at the time he felt a weird sense of dread in his stomach, knowing he'd done something wrong, but wasn't quite sure what.

Tom looked over to Billy's arm to see who he was destined for, but they were both completely bare.

"I'm only 14." said Billy. "Looks like I'm safe for a while yet, huh?"

Tom never did find out who Billy's soul mate would be though, his family moved away a few months later.

 

\---

The name of Chakotay's soul mate appeared on his arm at age 16 just as it was supposed to. Chakotay woke up that morning with dread, knowing he'd been born in the early hours, and the name was already there.

When he saw the beautiful scrawl, 'Thomas Eugene Paris' he wasn't even surprised, and maybe just slightly relieved that at the very least it wasn't someone he knew. He let out a heavy sigh and found a long sleeved shirt he'd set out the night before, and made his way downstairs.

"Good morning, Billy." said his mother smiling as he walked down the stairs. She glanced down at his arm, and Chakotay noticed the disappointment on her face, but didn't say anything. She'd be good, he knew, and respect his privacy until he wanted someone to know.

His father was a different matter. He saw Chakotay's long sleeves and frowned. "Chakotay? Why are you hiding your arms?" he asked.

"It's Billy." Chakotay corrected, not answering his father's question.

"Billy is a colonial name. Chakotay is your true name, the one the clan mother chose for you." his father pointed out, never shy about his political views. "And that's not what I asked you."

"Oh leave him, Kolopak." said his mother. "He'll share it when he's ready?"

"Is it someone we know?" asked Kolopak.

"No." said Chakotay.

"Then what's the problem?"

"There is no problem. I just want to keep it to myself for now, alright?" said Chakotay defensively.

Kolopak frowned, catching on to Chakotay's odd manner. "What aren't you telling me?" 

Chakotay didn't answer, glaring back at Kolopak, but Kolopak mostly saw fear in Chakotay's eyes.

His voice softened. "Chakotay, whatever it is, I won't be upset." he quickly reassured his son. "Why don't you show us, and we can talk about it."

He finally did manage to coax his son over, and when he rolled up the sleeve, it was about what he expected it to be. He smiled reassuring at Chakotay who looked terrified, and said "This is going to make things harder for you." in the voice of a man realising the life of someone he loved deeply just got a lot harder. "This is going to hurt your plans for joining the military."

Chakotay covered his arm back up and looked away glaring, like he didn't already know. And maybe Kolopak was sympathetic, but all Chakotay saw when he looked at his parents was disappointment on what should otherwise have been an exciting event. 

Technically the military wasn't supposed to look at soulmate names on canidates arms, and the uniforms usually covered them up anyways, but it didn't stop the government from forcing out people with same-sex names written on their forearms. There'd even been a scandal or two when someone had been forced out and a year or two later found out that the Bobby or Chris on someone's arm had actually turned out to be woman, or that one female ex-soldier's whose Leslie turned out to be a man from an old fashioned Scottish family.

Kolopak just took his son in his arms and held him, willing the world to be better to his son than he knew it would be.

 

\---

Chakotay did join the military. In the end he was sponsored by a Colonel Sulu who worked on the nearby base, even with the name on his arm, and it was the push he needed to get through the door.

It still wasn't easy. The people he served with noticed he kept his arm hidden. But then again, so did lots of people, and it wasn't always because they were hiding their sexual orientation. Some people were just private. Some people had someone well-known, some people had the name of someone dead, some people had someone other than the person they were currently seeing, and an extremely small percentage of people didn't have a name at all, and didn't seem to be particularly bothered by it either.

Chakotay didn't judge or try to pry, and so for the most part people left him alone too. And he kept his head down and worked hard, and he rose quickly enough through the ranks. As for Tom Paris, he never heard of anyone with that name, and cautiously dated other men on the side, and then when no Tom Paris still enterred his life, he slowly forgot about it. 

"Have you ever thought about looking him up?" It was another man Chakotay had been seeing on and off. Another military officer, Major David Reed, but the relationship was casual and discreet. More on Reed's part than Chakotay's. Reed had a name of someone he'd never met yet either, but was eager to finally find him and didn't want to find himself in another serious relationship when he did. Though, as Chakotay liked to point out, since they were both around forty, who knows if they'll ever find the person on their arm.

"You know how many Tom Paris' there are in the United States alone? Assuming he's even American." Chakotay pointed, laying back on the bed. 

"Just keep looking till you find someone with your own name on their arm." Reed pointed out. "You know there's whole agencies you can hire to do just that for you."

"That's assuming he has my name." said Chakotay. "I've heard of cases where they don't. I saw a documentary once, somebody found his soul mate, and they had his name on their arm too, plus the name of three other people."

"You're scaring me." said Reed, laying back and turning the tv on. "I still like to think my soul mate might be textbook and perfect."

Chakotay smirked and watched Reed flip through the channels. Then he saw something familiar. "Hey wait, go back to that news station."

Reed did, and the picture changed to a young news reporter talking to a camera on an eerily familiar road. >

Chakotay's mouth fell open.

"What is it?" asked Reed.

"That's my home."

> the reporter continued, >

An image of Kolopak flashed across the screen.

 

\---

 

Tom went to bed the night before his 16th birthday feeling ill. He wasn't ready. He barely interacted with Owen when he was home and not on tour, and the only communication Owen usually managed was little more than telling him to sit up straight, and real men don't cry. And if real men aren't even allowed to cry, he can't imagine how manly it probably was to get the name of another man scrawled across his arm.

His mother, he thought. Anne might understand. But if Tom told her, she would just tell Owen, and he was right back where he was.

He barely slept from nerves, and when he woke up early, his arm was still bare. Paris didn't really know when he was born, it didn't help he'd been born at a base in South Africa. Maybe it wouldn't appear today. Or was it the other way around? Maybe it wouldn't appear at all. Tom could be one of those rare people who never got a name, and just go through life as a free agent.

Maybe, he thought as he got dressed and wandered downstairs, whoever it is will have an ambiguous name. Like Taylor or Adrian or something. 

His father was already up, and Tom noticed the first thing he did was glance down to Paris' arm. When he saw it was blank he didn't look surprised, and shifted his focus to Tom with a smile. "Good morning, son." he said louder than he needed to at this hour. But General Paris had no time for someone who slept in past dawn. "Today's the big day, eh?"

"Yes, sir, I guess so." Tom mumbled, on his way past to dig up some breakfeast.

"I didn't hear that, soldier." his father admonished. 

"Yes, sir!" said Tom clearly.

Owen grinned. "That's more like it." He patted his son heavily on his shoulder as he passed. "And chin up, you're supposed to enjoy today."

Despite his worry, Tom managed a weak smile. It was rare that Owen spent real time with him, and he should try to enjoy it while he still can. 

His sisters were up not long after, both home from college for the summer, and bleary eyed from being woken up so much earlier than they had gotten used to away from home.

"Happy Birthday, Tom," they both mumbled on their way past him to dig up their own breakfasts. They were both still in pyjamas, Moira was wearing a t-shirt and Kathleen was in a tank-top, and both their arms were bare with the names of two men neither of them had met yet. Tom felt another wave of illness.

His mother walked in last, taking her usual seat at the table. She'd already been up for a while, and had breakfast, but sat anyways just to visit. She checked her watch and smiled.

"It should be any minute now, Tom." she smiled. 

"Any minute until what?" asked Tom, but he thought he already knew. He stood up, ready to bolt, and cursing himself for not thinking ahead and wearing a sweater. And then he felt a weird tingle on his arm, and didn't get away on time before Kathleen grabbed his wrist.

But when he opened his eyes again, nobody was looking upset or sad, though they were all looking confused.

Tom looked down at his arm and saw in a loopy script the name 'Chakotay'. He stilled for a second waiting for the second name to appear, but it never did.

"I wasn't aware people had mononymous names anymore," said Owen. "It doesn't look American though. I wonder where she's from?"

"Maybe it's East Indian, it sounds like it could be, and I think I heard somewhere Mononymous are common in some areas," Moira suggested. 

"Hmm," said Kathleen with her smart phone already pulled out. "The Internet says India, Thailand, Indonesia, Tibet, Mongolia and Afghanistan. The name itself isn't getting any results though."

Tom wondered if maybe Chakotay was the stage name of some drag queen, considering what he'd already figured out about his own inclinations, but he kept it to himself. He'd cross that bridge when he came to it, and for now was just happy to sit back relieved while his family speculated on the identity of a girl who probably didn't exist. And prepared to innocently tell his friends the next day, "Yeah, my family thinks she might be Mongolian or something."

 

Tom ended up following his dad into the military as an army pilot, and a damn good one at that. Tom did get to fly all over the world. And had in fact managed to visit India, Thailand, Indonesia, Tibet, and served a tour in Afghanistan. Not that there was any sign of anyone named Chakotay or anything close to similar, but Paris found companionship where he could anyways.

A lot of people planned to save themselves for their true loves. Tom had liked the idea right up until his first year in the OCS when he found himself training beside a beautiful man named Samuel Crabtree. Things got serious, but when Samuel ended it the day after an accidental meeting with an Alex Bernharde, the same name written across his arm, Tom was so devestated he broke out in hives, and missed so much class he almost flunked out.

After that he was a little looser but a little more cautious about getting into something serious. No matter how good things might seem, he knew he'd always be second to whatever random name might be scrawled across their arm.

And then the helicoptre accident happened and suddenly random names on peoples arms didn't seem to matter anymore. A routine transport at the Caldik Prime base ended up costing the lives of the two marines they were transporting along with Tom's co-pilot. 

Even though he'd known it was pilot error, it had somehow made it past the followup investigation, and Owen even made the trip to visit him in the hospital and tell him in his most comforting way to buck up and get back to work soon.

And then he got out, and got back to the work, and then the nightmares started. The crippling guilt, the shaking, and when the first flashbacks started to he confessed everything because he didn't know what to do and got a dishonourable discharge for his trouble.

Owen didn't come by that time. Nobody did, and Tom lost all his access to counselling services and healthcare he might have bad before.

 

\----

General Owen Paris rubbed his temple as he and two of his senior staff went through the lastest reports from the Dorvan dispute that was very rapidly spiralling out of control. 

"How is this happening?" he asked

"The problem is our own, sir." reported Lieutenant Colonol Sisko. "We've had a few defections. I'm sure you're aware of the military base on Dorvan land, apparently a lot of the personel there were sympathetic." 

Owen nodded. "I was stationed there briefly myself." 

Sisko continued. "Captain Michael Eddington, Captain Thomas Riker, Major Calvin Hudson." There was a touch of extra bitterness with the last name, Owen was aware the two had been friends. "The biggest pain in our ass though is former Major William Prince. He was one of the first to defect. He wasn't stationed there, but he is an enrolled member of the nation that lives there. He's also one of the best tactical officers we had serving with us, he was teaching the course on advanced tactics at the time of his defection."

Sisko passed him the file he'd already built up on Prince. Colonel Janeway, who had been standing behind him listening respectfull until that point shifted to see the folder too. "He's started going by an alias?"

"Chakotay." Sisko explained. "It's a tribal name. Reports seem divided on whether he's doing it for extra cover or as another point of rebellion."

Owen frowned. How did he know that name? And then with a sick twist of a knife in his chest he placed it and his world turned sideways. He made the hard decision quickly, no time to dwell on it now. "You want to find Prince, put a tail on my son."

"Do you think Tom is mixed up in all this?" asked Janeway.

"If he's not yet," said Owen, "I have a pretty strong feeling he will be soon."

\----

Tom was in a dingy bar in Marseilles, Illinois called Sandrines when a heavy-set man walked in. He wore bulky clothes, the kind you usually wore when you wanted to keep a weapon or two hidden. The bar was dark, but Tom could still tell he was scowling, and was that a tattoo over his left eye? Face tattoos were always trouble.

The man walked up to the bar. "I hear there's an out of work pilot who hangs around in here?" he asked Sandrine.

She glanced casually down the bar, at a line of patrons who included Tom who nodded, and she gestured to him.

He took the empty seat beside him, ordered a shot of hard whisky and asked, "You a pilot?"

"Was," answered Tom. "I don't really do that anymore. Not a lot of jobs out there for a guy like me."

"I have a job for you, if you want it." said the man.

Tom laughed, except it was mean and humourless. "You don't even know me." 

The man just shrugged. "You want the job or not? Because if you don't, let me know so I can find someone else."

Tom looked the man up and down, and when he finally decided he was serious, he said "Alright, what kind of job are we talking about here?"

"Not here. Do you know somewhere quiet we can talk?"

Understanding dawned on Tom's face. "I see what kind of job this is." he hesitated a minute. His life was a mess, but as of yet he hadn't actually gotten involved in anything illegal. Then again his bar tab was running up and his landlord was starting to get on his back about rent money. It wouldn't hurt to hear him out at least. Decide when he knew more details.

"Yeah." said Tom. "I think I know a place."

 

 

"You expect me to fly weapons into the middle of a border dispute!?" asked Tom. "What are you, some kind of arms dealer?"

"I am not an arms dealer!" answered the man, startling Tom with how offended he seemed at the accusation. "These are my people, and we have a right to defend ourselves. And it's not just weapons. It's food and medecine, and all the things people need that the government is preventing us from getting."

"Hey, I'm sympathetic, I am." said Tom. "I lived there for about a year when I was a kid. And the government had no right to try and give your land to a mining corporation. But weapons? I'd go to jail."

"From where I'm standing, even jail looks better than where you are right now," the man pointed out. He wasn't entirely wrong. Tom was skinny, he couldn't get work, he spent more time drunk than sober these days, and he really did need the money. "Take the job and we'll take care of you. And we'll get you back in the air."

Tom wasn't sure what half of that offer was more appealing, it had been way too long since he'd been allowed to fly. "Alright, but if I'm going to be working for you, what do I call you?"

"These days I'm going by Chakotay." 

Tom blinkedd then slowly started laughing in a way that grew into something manic and bordered on crying. "No fucking way." he said, when he could finally breathe again. "This is just great." He took off his jacket while Chakotay stood there frowning, and rolled up his sleeve to reveal the name scrawled across his arm. 

"You have got to be kidding me." said Chakotay, staring at the arm in disbelief.

"I guess nobody told you my name." said Tom. "Unless you don't have Tom Paris written across your arm?"

But Chakotay pulled up the sleeve on his own jacket to show off Tom's full name written delicately out across his own arm. "No." Chakotay confirmed. "Just that there was an out of work pilot in the area who was starting to look desperate."

"Well this is romantic." said Tom sardonically. "When people ask me if I've met my soulmate yet, I can finally tell them he hired me to illegally transport guns into a border dispute."

"This doesn't change anything." said Chakotay, firmly. "You're still just a pilot we hired. I've had this name on my arm for over 20 years now, I'm not changing anything because some drunk I hired shares it."

"I'm just dying to jump you too." drawled Tom, with a mean smirk on his lips.

Chakotay pulled out a pad of paper and wrote something on it before passing it to Tom. "Show up tomorrow, work, get paid." he said. "That's all I care about." and left.

 

\---

 

Paris showed up, actually sober to the address Chakotay had given him last night. Though he had a killer headache, and it would be nice if there was a little less daylight. A dark featured man in a small car came by to pick him and after intruducing himself as Ayala, drove silently for hours through countryside and backroads until they finally made it to a base.

Chakotay was there with a short tempermental looking woman, obviously going over something important when they pulled in.

"Oh good, you found him." said Chakotay. "Everyone this is Tom Paris. He's going to be getting you all back into Dorvan tomorrow. Tom, this is the Val Jean cell of the Maquis. Get to know these people, you'll be working closely with them over the next few months." Tom saw a couple of them look at him curiously when they heard the name, and Paris realised they'd probably seen it on Chakotay's arm. "He's only a pilot." Chakotay added firmly. "Paris, get over here, lets go over what we're going to do."

Chakotay showed him a map of the region, showed him where they were and where he was flying tomorrow. "I need you to take the cargo and a few of my people into Dorvan. We have to go by air, all the land routes have been completely barricaded." 

"Alright, but the entire Dorvan area is a no fly zone. How do I get there without being shot-down?" asked Tom.

Chakotay grinned, and showed Tom a flight pass over the eastern mountain ridge. "It's called the badlands. Between the mountains and a heavy weather system that cuts through it making it hard to fly. Not to mention the random storms a place like this creates, which show up out of nowhere. It all throws off the radars too, so you should be able to pilot straight through without being seen if you do it right."

"Oh my God, it's suicide." said Tom, looking over the map.

"Not if you know the area, and you know what to do." said Chakotay. "I've been through here hundreds of time, both by foot and in the air. I'll take you through today, show you the ropes, and you'll be ready to do it on your own."

 

 

"Alright." said Chakotay climbing into the co-pilot seat of the military chopper that Tom didn't even want to know where they got it from. "Ready when you are."

Tom nodded, and started running through pre-flight, feeling that familiar sense of peace and just general right-ness from sitting in the pilot's seat. And then they were off. It felt like Tom was back in flight school, but Chakotay was proving to be a good instructor, and Tom was a better flyer than Chakotay had expected. 

Tom had been right, they were far away from anthing ressembling optimal flying conditions, but Chakotay knew every trick, and every curve this pass might throw at them, and after spending the day out there with him, Tom was starting to feel like he did too. 

When they reached base again, dinner was waiting for them and Tom pretended this wasn't the first full meal he'd had this week and as he shoveled down about three hotdogs without a second thought. 

"You know," said Tom once the sun was setting and he found himself sitting beside Chakotay by a roaring fire. "No one ever guessed Native American."

"I'm sorry?" said Chakotay.

"Your name on my arm." explained Tom. "My sister Moira was sure you were East Indian."

Chakotay grinned. "Well she was half-right."

It took Tom a second to get that and when he did he laughed.

Chakotay finished up his food and stood up. "You did good today," he said patting Tom on the arm as he walked past. "Keep it up, we could have a good thing here."

Then Ayala drove him home again and Tom dozed happily in the car, full and with his stomach twisting around in weird ways. When they finally made it, Ayala handed Tom an envelope. 

"From Chakotay, to tide you over until we get a few more jobs done."

Tom took the envelope, and opened it. It was cash, and he had to resist the strong urge he had to count out all the bills right there. He fell back against the wall behind him, a feeling of extreme relief washing over him.

 

\---

"So that's Tom Paris?" asked the short brown haired woman after he'd left. "He seems nice enough."

"Don't get too excited, Lana." said Chakotay. "Trust me, this one's only here to pay his bar tab. And I'm not interested in guns for hire."

"Too bad." she said, looking down the road where Tom had disappeared with Ayala. "He's cute."

 

\---

 

And so Paris did a successful run of weapons and food over the pass. Then he managed to smuggle a few people in, and another couple out. Things still weren't great, and it still put him on edge doing something that could get him into so much trouble, but at least he had a steady paycheck, and his life seemed to be stabilizing a bit. And even better than that, he was flying again, and that alone made it all worth it.

It was his third week, and he was just going over inventory when he heard the disturbing sound of someone cocking a gun. Then the sound of footsteps and "Down on the ground! Hands where we can see them!"

And the next thing he knew, he was kneeling on the ground being handcuffed watching helplessly as army personel opened up the various boxes, including one filled with illegal amunition meant for the Maquis resistence cells inside Dorvan. 

The officer in charge yanked Paris up hard. "Looks like you're going away for a very long time." 

 

\----

 

"Well, you were right about your son." Sisko reported to Owen the next morning. "We have him down in lockup now. But no sign of Chakotay, they weren't together when he was caught."

Owen sighed. He'd hoped he'd been wrong.

"I'll be down in a minute, Colonol," he said the Sisko. "Dismissed."

Sisko left, leaving him alone with Janeway. "I'm sorry, sir." said Janeway sympathetically. 

"Thanks Janey, but it is what it is," he said dismissively. "You had a proposal for me?"

"Yes, sir." said Janeway falling comfortably back into professional mode. "I was thinking about how following Tom didn't quite work, and I think maybe what we need is a real informant on the inside."

"You want to plant a soldier into the Maquis." said Owen. 

"Yes, sir." said Janeway. "And I already have an officer in mind."

Owen nodded. "Alright, write it up, I want the proposal on my desk by the time I get back from lunch." 

Janeway smiled and nodded. "Thank you, sir." before being dismissed as well, leaving nothing else for Owen to do, except head down to lockup, and oversee the situation with his son. With a heavy heart he put on his jacket, and called his car.

 

Tom didn't look good. He was skinny, and jumpy, and it hurt Owen just to see him like that. He wondered what had happened to the warm, lively kid he used to be. 

"One more time, Paris. Where is Chakotay?" grilled the soldier questioning him. A Major Worf, large intimidating, yet despite the obvious edge to him, Tom seemed unmoved. 

"Like I said, I have no idea," he answered impatiently.

Worf growled, "The name written across your arm implies something else."

Tom just shrugged, looking bored already by the interrogation. 

Owen sighed and walked into the interrogation room, and that got a proper reaction out of Tom, who opened his eyes wide. "Dad."

Worf turned around. "General..."

"Can I have five minutes, Major?" asked Owen. 

Worf nodded and left them alone. 

"Oh Tom, what have you gotten yourself into." asked Owen with genuine sympathy.

Tom looked away, embarrassed? Angry? Owen frowned and wondered when Tom had gotten so hard to read. 

"You're looking at real jail time here, son," Owen continued. "General prison sentence for weapons trafficking is 18 months, considering the situation though, if they find more evidence to link you to that Maquis cell, they could decide to charge you with treason. Give us something to help us. Tell us where to find Chakotay, and we can help you."

"What you suddenly care now? Or do you just want to get the Maquis leader whose keeping all your men at bay, and who cares if you had to throw your son under a bus to do it?"

"Tom..." Owen's voice was warning.

"It doesn't matter," Tom continued, talking over his father, "because I don't know anyways. They gave me some crates, asked me to fly them in, that's it. I can't tell you anything more than that, I can't even give you more than two names and you probably know them both anyways."

Owen's gaze shifted instinctively to the name scrawled across Tom's arm. "You really expect me to believe that?"

"What are you thinking, Dad? asked Tom. "I'm his lover? The two of us are spending late nights in bed planning the next attack on your people?" Owen winced and Tom looked triumphant. "Well we're not. I've met him twice. Two times. Once when he hired me, and once when he showed me how to fly through the badlands. Honestly, I don't even think he likes me. And frankly, considering the situation he got me in, I think it's pretty mutual."

Owen felt relieved, and then guilty for feeling relieved. Then he frowned. "How did you even get mixed up in all of this?" he demanded.

"Gee, I don't know. With all the steady I work. Maybe if you were really so concerned you might have considered picking up the phone every once in a while."

Owen felt his face going red. Tom always did have a knack for getting right under people's skin when he wanted to. "Don't you go turning this around on me!" he said. "You make your own way in this life.

Tom just rolled his eyes, just like he used to do when he was a teenager and Owen had tried to instill these same basic values in him. Maybe if Tom had listened they wouldn't be in this mess right now. 

"All these years I'm fighting off nightmares and flashbacks, and I don't hear a damn thing from you. But now that I might be facing jail time, that I might actually tarnish the proud Paris name, I'm supposed to believe you actually care? Yeah, why am I not surprised."

"You were always were too smart for your own good." said Owen, making a conscious effort not to let Tom get to him. "Even when people are trying to help you. Well good luck, you're not going to get someone else as sympathetic." And he turned around and left. Once again leaving Tom to deal with his problems on his own.

But after the interrogations were over, and Paris was put in a holding cell to await trial, a young woman with short hair and a kind smile came to see him. "Hi, I'm Dr Dax." she said. "Or you can call me Ezrie if you prefer. I'm a therapist, I'm here to set up some appointment times."

 

\----

 

For a long while, Chakotay just sat there. Waiting for his heart to stop pounding in his ears, and it took him a moment to realise he was still alive. That at least was something. A bad storm from the badlands, he realised, once his head had cleared a bit. He wondered just how far off course they'd travelled. 

"Is everyone alright?" he called. There'd been a small handful of people with him. He turned his head, Tuvok, who was still in the co-pilots seat, nodded in the affirmative.

"Yeah, we're alright back here," called Torres. "What the hell happened?"

Slowly, in case there were any injuries he couldn't feel yet from the andrenaline, he unbuckled himself and climbed out of his seat. He had to kick the door out, but they all managed to climb out. 

"A strong wind that comes through from the east sometimes," Chakotay explained. "We could be hundreds of miles off course."

The alien landscape that greeted them as they stepped outside seemed to confirm it. 

"We're in the middle of nowhere." said Ayala looking around the river valley they'd found themselves in. "I don't even see the mountain range around Dorvan."

Chakotay followed Ayala's gaze upwards but it was the sky to the west that concerned him. "We don't have long until nightfall. We should focus on getting some kind of shelter built. At least we have food in the cargo bay, maybe there's more we can use there."

It was at some point between then and a couple hours later, after they had all settled down around a roaring fire that Chakotay noticed Torres had disappeared.

 

\---

 

Tom was working out in the fields, where he'd been all morning, deligently picking soybeans. Actually he enjoyed it, good honest hard work, and when he finished he was usually so tired he didn't even have the energy to think anymore. Harder days were days where he met with Ezrie had to actually work through certain issues but even those were getting easiermand Tom had to admit he was actually getting better. Even his nightmares were starting to become few and far between. 

"Tom Paris?" 

The sound of his name brought him out of his own thoughts, but it didn't sound like any of the usual guards. He stood up and saw a petite woman in a military uniform and a colonel insignia gleaming in the sunlight.

"Care for a walk?" she asked. 

"I'm a bit busy at the moment," said Tom.

"The correctional office has given you the afternoon off to talk to me," she said. "They're very impressed with the progress you've made."

"Well, then, I guess I'm all yours." said Tom putting his basket aside and coming out. 

The Colonel took a second to glance at the ankle monitor blinking, then back at Paris. "My name's Kathryn Janeway. I worked with your father."

"You must be good," drawled Tom. "General Owen Paris only accepts the best."

"I came to talk about Chakotay," said Janeway after a while. 

Tom stiffled an impatient sigh. "Like I already told everyone, I was only with them for a few weeks. I don't know anything."

She glanced down at his arm, exposed for the world to see in his short-sleeved prison uniform. 

"Chakotay doesn't even like me," said Tom. "He saw me as a mercenary who'd fly for anyone who'd pay more bar bill. And he was right."

"He's missing," said Janeway.

"What?"

Janeway raised an eyebrow, at the sudden break in his indifference, but didn't push it. "Along with one of my officers who was working undercover." she continued. "He's supposed to report in twice a day, the last time we heard from him was three days ago."

"Maybe they found your pip," Tom suggested. 

"Maybe." Janeway agreed. "And maybe you can take us through the badlands and we can find out for ourselves what happened. We need someone who knows how to navigate the area, and you know it better than any military pilot."

"And what do I get out of it?" asked Tom.

"We'll put in a good word for you at your next parol hearing." said Janeway. "Officially you'll be an observer but..."

"Wait, I don't get to actually fly?" asked Tom. "I'm the best pilot you could get."

"But we'll need you to navigate." Janeway finished, remaining firm.

Tom just sighed. "Story of my life." 

\----

 

"Hurry it up!" snapped Major Cavit. The military guard assigned to Tom, shoving him forward through the military base hallways. When Tom looked behind him, he was grinning. Bastard was enjoying this.

"You could loosen these," Tom suggested, jangling the metal handcuffs for emphasis. 

"You don't need free hands to walk at a decent pace, Paris," said Cavit without sympathy. "Just be grateful we didn't make you wear the orange jumpsuit."

Tom looked at the sky, and silently asked for a nicely aimed lightening bolt.

They finally stopped at the on-base bar, and Cavit ordered a drink and joined a table of other officers playing a game of poker, forcing Tom into the other free-chair. "Where I can keep an eye on you." he hissed at him.

"I see you got stuck with the prisoner," teased one of them, who judging by the red cross on his arm was probably the mission's medic. A young woman with dark hair and a captain's insignia smirked. The other person at the table was a very green looking kid with a second lieutenant insignia on his uniform. 

He smiled at Tom. "Hey, I'm Harry Kim." 

"Tom," said Tom. 

"This is Captain Stadi and--" 

"Are we gonna play or not?" asked Cavit loudly interrupting, obviously uninterested.

The medic pulled out a deck of cards and glanced at Tom. "He playing too?"

Cavit snorted while Paris held up the handcuffs as his own answer. "What would he even bet?"

So Tom sat back bored, while the four of them played poker and made crass jokes. Well, mostly Kim seemed to be turning completely red. Tom felt sorry for the poor kid, at least he seemed more tolerable than the other three. Cute too, though not really Tom's type. Too naive and too young. 

And then he spotted something odd. Did Cavit just pass the medic cards? Tom sat up a bit, suddenly this game was a bit more interesting. It didn't take him long to figure out the system the three of them had going, as the slowly and systematically cleaned out poor Kim. He watched as Cavit played a full house against Kim's high pair and took the pot in the middle. 

"Hey, better luck next time kid." said Stadi, almost sounding sympathetic. 

"Another hand?" asked Cavit grinning.

Tom timed it perfectly. He waited for Cavit to slip a couple cards back into his sleeve, and sneezed "accidentally" bumping Cavit with elbow mid motion and both the cards flew up into plain view.

"Oh I'm sorry," said Tom. "You know, hard to cough into your elbow when your hands are cuffed like this."

Cavit glared at him.

"You're cheating?" asked Kim.

"Don't take it so personally, kid," said the medic. "It's just a bit of hazing. All the new recruits get it."

"I never did," said Tom helpfully, earning him another glare this time from all three senior officers at the table.

Cavit grabbed him by his collar. "Hey, you..."

"Hey!" Kim interrupted. "Don't hit him. He's in handcuffs for crying out loud."

For a tense few seconds, Cavit just hung there, looking very much like he'd like to smack that smirk right of Tom's face. Then he pushed him back forcefully enough, Tom almost lost his balance. "You want him, he's your problem," he told Kim. "We'll see you at the mission site." And the three of them walked off.

"Thanks," said Kim. "You just saved me a lot of money."

"Yeah, well considering you just saved me from getting my face punched inside out, I'd say we're even," said Tom. 

"Do you want a drink?" asked Kim. "We still have another hour before we have to report in."

Tom shook his head, but took a seat at the bar anyways, releaved to finally be away from Cavit. "I'm good, but you go ahead," he said. "So Harry Kim. Where you from?"

 

\----

When Cavit, Tardi and the medic made it to the check in, Janeway was waiting for them. Informed already about the incident in the bar, she told them they can sit this one out, and she'll figure out what proper discipline to take when she gets back. In the mean time, a Captain Vorik and a Captain Carey were already on hand to replace them. 

Tom tried not to smile too much when he found out. He was more than happy to leaving Cavit behind.

It turned out Kim was flying the mission, and Tom moved reluctantly into the co-pilot's seat. Handcuffs still on, so he couldn't take over even if Kim let him. And it wasn't long before Tom really wished he could. He was sure Kim was a fair enough pilot normally, but even with Tom's instructions, the badlands were proving to be a bit much for him. 

Then a storm appeared out of nowhere, and the last thing Tom was aware of before the pressure dropped and he hit his head and lost consciousness was that Kim had lost control.

 

\----

When Tom finally came back to himself, he wasn't in the plane anymore, which was weird because why would everything still be spinning if they were outdoors.

There were brief flashes of memories, some in a plane, some out, but trying to think about it made his head hurt even more than it already did, so Tom let it go for the moment.

"Tom, how do you feel?" asked two different Janeways.

"Great," Tom lied. "What--" he stopped talking abruptly though when suddenly starting throwing up.

Janeway managed to get out of the way just in time, and gently rubbed his back until he was finished.

"Colonel, I found a doctor!" Tom looked up and saw a blonde woman coming over the hill, he'd missed her name, but she was wearing a warrent officers uniform and she'd gotten on with them at the beginning of the mission. Behind her was a tall bald man Tom had never seen before with a frown and a large plastic case with a red cross on it. And Tom wasn't sure if it was the head injury, or just the particular way the bright sun was hitting him, but he almost seemed to shimmer as he made way towards them.

"Good job, Sam." said Janeway getting out of the way for the stranger to examine Tom.

"He hit his head during the crash," she explained as he started to examine Tom, very gingerly making his way around the puke in front of him. "He's been awake for about an hour now, but he's only been coherent since just before you arrived."

"How long was he out?" asked the doctor.

"We're not sure." said Janeway. "He woke up shortly after the crash, but he was probably out at least a few minutes."

the doctor nodded and shifted his focus back to Tom. "Do you know your name?"

"Tom," he said, still a bit dazed. "Tom Paris."

"Do you know who the current president is?"

Tom frowned, "Obama." 

The doctor looked over at Janeway for confirmation. When Janeway looked back confused he said, defensively, "I don't know, I've been living in these backwoods for the past 5 years."

"It's Obama," Janeway confirmed.

The doctor held out his hand. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Tom frowned, the number kept changing on him. "Six?" 

"I see we have nauseau," the Doctor continued, eyeing the puke beside him. "Can you stand, Mr. Paris?"

"I'll let you know just as soon as the room stops spinning," Tom slurred. 

The Doctor sighed and stood up. "Without any diagnostic equipment it's hard to do more, but I think it's safe to say he has a concussion. I recommend rest and trying not to die over the next 12 hours."

Paris would have argued, but he didn't really have the energy, and he let himself be led off by Sam to go lay down for a bit while the Doctor went to look over everyone else. Tom spent the rest of the day drifting in and out of consciousness, broken up only by the Doctor who'd ocassionally wake him up to check his symptoms, and the ocassional need to throw up again.

The sun was down when he finally woke up properly. His head was still pounding, but otherwise he felt much better. The ground felt a lot more stable, and he managed the exertion needed to get up and make his way to the nearby fire still in handcuffs without getting nauseus. 

Colonel Janeway was already there, building it up with one arm, the other, Tom noticed was in a makeshift sling. The Doctor, he noticed was still there too, frowning into the fire. 

"How's everyone?" asked Tom, suddenly concerned that the only people he remembered seeing after the crash were still just Janeway and Sam Wildman who he remembered now that his head had cleared a bit.

"Surprisingly well considering," said Janeway. "Though we'll see who's aching tomorrow once all the andrenaline wears off."

Tom breathed a sigh of relief. 

"How's your head?" asked Janeway.

"Better," said Tom, caught a bit off guard by anything that sounded like genuine concern. Then again he was still in the handcuffs, so he was sure she probably mostly wanted to know for practical reasons. Afterall, they still had to get out of here. Which reminded him, "Where are we?"

Janeway looked suddenly grim, all the more emphasized by the dramatic shifting red and orange light reflecting off her face. "It's called the Occompa Valley. We're a full 700 miles from the nearest town."

Tom blew out some air. "That's over 12 hours of driving." 

"Assuming we had a car," said Janeway. 

"No vehicles?" asked Tom.

"No roads," said Janeway. "No electicity, no phone lines."

Tom turned his attention the Doctor who was sitting, staring seriously into the fire. "What the hell are you doing all the way out here?" he asked.

"My reasons for being here are my own." he sniffed, and that seemed to be all they'd get from him.

After a few more minutes, Captain Carey came back, looking grim.

"We found the Maquis helicoptre, but no sign of the Maquis themselves," he reported. "If Chakotay's with them, they probably won't be found unless they want to be. Captain Vorik is with Officer Wildman, taking another look around, but we think Lieutenant Kim's gone missing."

"What?" demanded Tom. "What happened?"

Janeway put up her hand to silence him and looked back up at Carey, nodding at him to indicate he could speak.

"He missed the rendez-vous check-in point," said Carey. "That was two hours ago."

Janeway frowned. The sun had almost completely set. "Call the others back. We'll do a proper search and rescue first thing tomorrow."

"Wait, we're just going to leave him out there?" asked Tom. "What if something happened to him? What if he fell off a cliff or got taken by Chakotay?"

"Then I can't risk losing anymore people," said Janeway firmly. "And our chances of finding anything without daylight is almost nothing. First light." But she gave him an odd look, like she didn't understand why he was so concerned. It made Tom feel sheepish, he was just a green looking Lieutenant afterall. Still, he liked Kim. And it wasn't like he had a lot of other allies around here.

 

\---

 

"You have to let me help look," said Tom. "I have the same survival training as the rest of them. I can be useful."

"While I'm glad you're feeling better, Tom, but you should be resting," said Janeway. "Besides, you're only here as an observer. If you think we're going to release you..."

"Where am I going to go? You said it yourself, we're 700 miles away from civilization."

Janeway paused a minute, considering, while Tom looked back at her, eyes pleading. "Alright," she finally said, pulling out a key and taking off his handcuffs. "You're with Captain Vorik." She turned to Vorik. "If he tries to escape, or over-exerts himself, bring him back. Watch he doesn't hit his head."

Vorik just nodded, and silently set off with Paris, and they quickly settled into a standard search pattern with Wildman and Carey.

"Somebody has definitely been through here," said Vorik noting the pressed down grass going into the trees. He followed it in, and Paris heard him take a few steps and then suddenly nothing.

"Vorik?" silence. He tried again. "Hey, man, you still there?"

"Vorik?" Paris tried again, he wasn't stupid enough to follow him in there, but he could at least walk over and see if he was still visible. He took a step towards the brush, and a gun met his head. Then Chakotay stepped out after it.

Then his face went from threatening to confused. "You!"

"It's good to see you too, Chakotay," Tom drawled as he raised his hands were Chakotay could see them. Looking past Chakotay he could see Vorik was safe, but holding still at gun point from a tall, lean man Tom had never seen before, and wondered if it was Tuvok.

"What are you doing here?" demanded Chakotay.

"Looking for your sorry ass," said Tom. "You all disappeared and they wanted to find you and needed someone who knew the terrain."

Chakotay's eyes narrowed. "You betrayed us."

"Really? Because where I'm standing you got me into a huge mess and left me rotting in a jail cell. I'm a bit mixed up on the part where I owe you anything," said Tom.

"From where you're standing, you might want to be a bit more careful," said Chakotay glancing back at his gun.

"Alright," said Paris, making sure his hands were properly up where Chakotay had a clear view of them. "What do you want?"

"How did you get here?" he demanded. "Do you have a way back?"

"We crashed," said Tom. "Just like you did." he frowned. "Though if you have Kim, you'd know that already."

"Kim?" asked Chakotay. 

"Yeah, one of the army guys. He disappeared last night, we thought maybe you might have gotten him."

Behind Chakotay he could see Vorik frowning. Apparently you weren't supposed to just give information away to the enemy. Tom ignored him.

"One of our people disappeared too," said Chakotay. "The first night we crashed. We haven't been able to find her anywhere."

"It appears we have a mutual problem," said probably-Tuvok behind them. "Perhaps we should join forces."

"She'd arrest all of us," said Chakotay.

"And put you where?" asked Tom. "Because all I see are trees."

Chakotay considered. "Alright, but just the two of us. In case it's a trap."

Chakotay and Tuvok put their guns away, and Paris and Vorik led the way back to Janeway's camp.

 

\----

Chakotay had almost a full head on Janeway, but somehow she managed to be the more imposing of the two. To Tom it looked like a clash of titans, and he was more than happy to stand back with Vorik.

"In the spirit of cooperation I should let you know," said Janeway, "Tuvok is one of mine." She glanced up at other Maquis who had come with Chakotay, and watched him cross over to her side.

Chakotay's eyes snapped onto Tuvok. "You're working for her?"

"I'm afraid so."

"And so what was the plan? You were just going to wait for the right time and deliver my crew to her waiting hands?"

"My mission was to gather information. And then, yes, to deliver you into Janeway's waiting hands," answered Tuvok dispassionately.

"And what was your price?" Chakotay asked Tom. "Are they paying you? Or did they just offer you an early release from jail?"

"This isn't the time," said Janeway. "Tom is here because I brought him here. As long as that's the case, you'll leave him alone. Right now, we have a bigger problem and that's finding our people and getting home."

Tom was somewhat touched. But kept it to himself. Chakotay reluctantly agreed.

 

\---

 

"Hey," Torres hissed. "Hey! Army!" 

The young man, cuffed to the wall opposite her, stirred, then groaned, then slowly opened his eyes.

"Where am I?" he asked, more groggy than he should be. 

"A basement, I think," said Torres. 

And yeah, Kim thought, it did look a lot like a church basement. White walls, brightly lit from the small windows near the roof. 

"I've been down here for three days though and so far all I've seen are a handful of really creepy people who come down to feed us.

And then, as if on cue, an old man with white whispy hair walked in with a couple vapid looking young women with light blonde hair braided with flowers and lace, and plain white dresses.

"Ah, my children," he smiled at them both. "I'm so glad you're awake."

"Did you drug me?" asked Kim.

The man looked absolutely pained. "Oh my child, we only did what we had to bring you to us," he said. "I am the caretaker, and you are finally home."

Kim felt a feeling of dread build up in his chest and nodded nervously.

 

\----

 

The Doctor had come back to Janeway's camp under the pretense of wanting to check on them again. He was surprised to see the number of people there had doubled since his last visit.

"Who's this!?" asked Chakotay when he walked over.

"Excuse me?" sniffed the Doctor.

"He's a doctor," said Janeway. "He lives nearby."

"Someone actually lives in this valley?" asked Chakotay amazed.

"Yes," said the Doctor primly. "And I'm not alone. Actually it's one of the reasons I came to talk to you." He opened his mouth, the closed it again. It took him two more tries before he actually managed to speak. It was the first time that Tom ever saw him lose his composure. "You see, Colonel, they have my daughter."

Janeway frowned. "Who has her?"

"They're a cult. They kidnapped her five years ago. They're probably the same people who took your friends."

 

\---

In the end, Janeway decided a small group would be better and she brought Tuvok, Chakotay and Tom down to the Doctor's small cabin. It looked like a typical farm. A large garden, some horses and cows penned up in the back. It wasn't hard to see how it could be self-sufficient.

When they came in, they met another small man dressed in colourful clothing. "Who are these people?" he demanded when they came in.

"Relax, Neelix. They're here to help," said the Doctor introducing Janeway. "This is Neelix. A local hermit. Though I've since hired him to help get my daughter out. And doing a bang-up job as you can see," he added sarcastically.

"Hey!" said Neelix. "I'm doing what I can, but it's not that simple, and you know it."

The Doctor huffed. "Yes, I do," he agreed reluctantly.

Janeway waltzed into the main room and took a seat on one of the chairs, crossing her leg over the other. "Why don't you both start at the beginning. Tell us what you know, and we'll figure it out from there."

"They call themselves The Children of the Sun," said the Doctor. "They're sun worshippers, and they follow a man called 'The Caretaker'. He kidnaps unsuspecting people and brainwashes them to follow him."

The Doctor pulled back his sleeve, revealing the name 'Martis Benaren'. "Kes' mother." he explained. "She escaped when she was 16. She travelled for months through the brush to get away. I still can't fathom how she ever did it. I was the one who found her half starved on the side of the highway. We were friends for a few years, then we fell in love and got married. Everything was wonderful for a while, but when Kes turned 16 and the name on her arm was one of the Caretaker's followers, he used it as leverage to kidnap her and bring her here."

"The real problem," said Neelix, "is where will we take her if we get her out? We're so isolated here, and there isn't really anywhere we can keep her that the Caretaker won't find us."

"How did you get out here in the first place?" asked Janeway.

"The horses," the Doctor explained, Chakotay who had chosen to remain standing took a couple steps over and glanced out the window at the animal pens. There were two beautiful horses trotting around their enclosure. "It took us just over a month to get out here. And then we set up building all of his."

Janeway nodded, obviously impressed.

"And how does the Caretaker get his followers up here?" asked Janeway. "Does he have horses too?"

"No, he has a helicopter on sight though," said Neelix.

That got Chakotay's attention. "If you can get us to that helicopter, we can fly it out." he said.

 

\----

 

"Parker?" Torres asked. "Or maybe Cooper? Hmm, or maybe DeBeer." 

Kim finally looked over. "Huh?"

"Don't fall asleep on me now, Army," said Torres. "We need to stay focused."

Kim shook his head and forced himself back into the room they were trapped in. 

"Ander?" Torres asked, continuing with her questioning. "Though that usually has an s at the end, doesn't it?"

"What are you talking about?" asked Kim.

"The letters showing under your sleeve. I'm trying to guess the name of your sweetheart."

Kim looked up groggy. "Oh." he said seeing the 'er' sticking out boldly against his pale skin. "Webber. Elizabeth Webber."

"Pretty name," Torres commented. "Is she nice? Are you together yet?"

"Yeah, she's my fiancee," said Kim, answering the second question first. "And...yeah, she's fine, I guess."

Torres raised an eyebrow. Normally she wasn't the type to pry, but bigod, she needed them to focus on something other than the situation they were in. She knew enough to know how these people worked, the most important thing was to not let them break down your defenses. 

"Fine?" she asked. "Talk about damning with faint praise."

Kim looked away, a distinct red blotchiness creeping his collar. 

"Look, I'm sorry," said Torres quickly. "I'm just trying not think about how raw my wrists are under these cuffs, you know?"

"Yeah," Kim agreed raising his arms slightly to give his wrists a brief rest. "Libby is great, really." he said. "Just..."

"Yeah?" Torres egged him on.

"I dunno, I guess I thought it would be different, you know? Movies always make it seem like when you finally meet the right person it's going to be some sort of fairytale romance. I guess I just didn't expect it to be so, I dunno..."

"Hard?" Torres offered. 

Kim looked over at her, and recognized the look of someone who knew exactly what he meant and nodded. "I mean, we met so young, maybe we just weren't ready," he added.

"And now you wonder if it can be salvaged, or if you've both hurt each other too much to get past it," said Torres. "And everyone just pushes you together, and it just makes everything feel so much worse when things aren't working."

Kim looked over in awe at just how accurately Torres seemed to be reading his mind. "Yeah."

The door opened, and they both tensed up, ready for another creepy encounter with the caretaker, but instead a small woman with short blonde hair and large dark circles under her eyes poked through. 

She walked up to them slowly like she was afraid she might be heard and stopped at any minute. "I have something for you," she whispered when she finally made it, and pulled out a salve for their wrists.

"I'm sorry, I just don't meet a lot of strangers," she said. "My name's Kes."

"B'elanna," said Torres.

"Harry," said Kim.

"My father taught me how to make this," Kes explained as she started coating Torres' wrist first. It stung a bit, but Torres was grateful, and tried not to move while Kes worked.

"You know what would really help? If you could just unlock us. Just for a few minutes," Torres tried.

Kes looked sympathetic like she really wanted to, but shook her head. "I'm sorry, only the Caretaker has the key," she explained. "But if you cooperate, I'm sure he'll free you much sooner."

"Yeah, we'll keep that in mind," Torres deadpanned as Kes finished. She smiled down at Torres and went over to do the same to Kim.

"How did you get here?" asked Kes in awe. "The caretaker says new people are a gift from the sun and we should take care of them and welcome them."

"You call this welcoming?" asked Torres.

"But we don't want to stay here," said Kim. "We want to go home."

Kes blinked. "But we have everything you would need here. And you're with the Caretaker. Why would you want to leave?"

"Don't you ever want to leave?" asked Torres. "See other parts of the world? See other people?"

Kes hesitated a bit before finally answering quietly, "There is somebody I'd like to see again..." then she glanced around nervously and said, "I've got to go. It was nice meeting you." she said hurriedly and rushed out.

 

\---

 

Neelix loaded up their cart with a few bags of vegetables and got Janeway and Tuvok to ride with him up front while Tom and Chakotay hid under a tarp in the back, and they rode slowly down to the Caretaker's compound.

"Brother Neelix!" Greeted a young dark haired man. "We were not expecting back so soon."

"Hello Brother Zahir," Neelix greeted back enthusiastically. "We got a bit of a bumper crop, too much food and not enough places to store it, I'm afraid."

Zahir then looked suspiciously at Janeway and Tuvok. "Who are they?"

"Ah, this is sister Kathryn, and brother Tuvok," explained Neelix cheerily. "We've had such a strong crop lately, I've needed to hire some help."

It must have sounded reasonable enough for Zahir, because he opened the gate and them come in without running off to the Caretaker to confirm. Or even worse, inspecting the cart.

Neelix drove the horse through the gates and into the encampment. After driving down a long worn trail, he finally he reached a set of barns and drove the cart inside one of the smaller ones. Once alone, Neelix started unloading the vegetables while Janeway pulled the tarp off of Chakotay and Tom. 

"Alright, you try to find our missing people, we'll poke around here see if we can find the helicopter. Try not to be seen. We'll all meet back here in half an hour before anyone gets too suspicious."

 

"Just stay close." hissed Chakotay as they stepped out into the yard.

"Don't worry, this place is giving me the creeps," answered Tom lightly. "God, this place is huge," he added when they got outside. Looking around, Paris couldn't even see the gates anymore. There was a small scattering of buildings, but mostly it was just open air, paths, and red fields.

"Now where would I keep a kidnapped soldier and rebel?" asked Tom glancing around.

"Indoors," said Chakotay. "Isolated from his followers. At least at first. An attic, a shed, a basement."

Tom started looking around. "This place is falling apart." he said notting some rotting wood on the side of some of the buildings. 

"Just focus on the mission," said Chakotay. "We don't have time to get distracted."

"How is that we've only met like 4 times, and I already irritate you this much?" asked Tom as they walked. 

Chakotay cut back a growl. "This really isn't the time." 

"Is it just my charming personality?" asked Tom. "Or are you mad that it's my name written across your arm instead of someone else's?"

"You know, there have been other men in my life," said Chakotay calmly. "Better men than you. But so long as it was your name written across my arm, so long as it wasn't my name on theirs, we never had a chance of getting anywhere."

Tom nodded. "I see. I never had a chance, you hated me before we even met. You know you're not the only person who never got to see relationships played out because of what was written on your arm. Hate to say it, but that's life."

"I just don't want to make major life decisions based on a couple of scrawls on my arm," said Chakotay. "Seems to me they've only ever caused problems."

"Yeah, well--" but Tom was interrupted there when one of the nearby buildings errupted and about thirty people with weird vapid smiles and large dark circles under their eyes came pouring out.

"So much for not being seen," Tom drawled as they were quickly surrounded.

"Strangers!" said a particularly young one with a long white dress and flowers in her unkept hair. "Hello brothers, have you come to join us?"

"You must join us brothers. You must come meet the Caretaker."

Chakotay took a few steps closer to Tom and Tom felt Chakotay's hand wrap protectively around his wrist. "Yes, we would love to meet your Caretaker," said Chakotay carefully. "But first we're just looking for a couple friends of ours. A man and a woman who would have shown up recently. Has anyone seen them?"

"You must come see our caretaker, brothers," she repeated. "All new people must meet the Caretaker."

"Yes," Chakotay agreed nodding. "Just as soon as we see our friends. We're just worried."

"The Caretaker will show you your friends," said the woman as a middle aged man put a ring of flowers around Tom's neck, desite his protests. "He's very kind."

"I don't think this is working," whispered Tom, as they started to jostle him.

"Alright," Chakotay agreed. "Take us to your Caretaker." he plastered the biggest, fakest smile he could manage and let them lead him and Tom back the way they came, let them get a bit of a lead, and then yanked Tom away and ducked behind a nearby building.

"God, that was close," whispered Tom once they were out of sight. 

"Come on," said Chakotay, finally letting go on his wrist. "we have to keep looking, before they notice we're gone."

 

They'd maybe had it maybe another twenty feet when out of nowhere Chakotay stepped on some rotting wood without realising it, and felll right through the ground.

"Chakotay!" He rushed over, and was relieved to see him just under the ground, holding onto a rope tied to the top. It must have been a well at one time, though now it just looked like a really deep dark hole. "Hold on!" Tom called, "I'll pull you out!"

Except when he stepped closer to the hole to grab the rope, the ground underneath him fell away and Tom just barely managed to jump back soon enough. Chakotay grunted as he fell another couple feet down. 

"The whole structure under here is going," called Chakotay. "Get out of here, Tom!"

"Not without you," said Tom, gingerly walking back over.

"Tom, I'm serious!"

"What? Don't tell me you'd rather die then let me save you," said Tom.

"Fine, be an idiot. At least I'll take you down with me," said Chakotay.

Tom finally reached the rope, and this time the ground stayed where it was supposed to be. "Oh how romantic," drawled Tom. His head started throbbing again the minute he started pulling, but he pushed through it. "Can't you Indians turn into birds and just carry us away from here?" 

Chakotay didn't miss a beat. "You're too heavy."

Tom actually chuckled. So he did have a sense of humour. One last pull and Tom finally got him, and Chakotay had to pretty much tackle him to get him off the ground he was standing on before the whole thing collapsed underneath them.

Chakotay took a deep breath and looked down at Tom and realised he was straddling him, practically pinning him to the ground. There faces were barely a foot apart, and Tom was looking up at him, looking maybe a bit disoriented, then glanced briefly to his lips and back up, like he was daring him to do...something.

Chakotay noticed his lips were dry. He licked them, and then when it didn't work...

Suddenly Tom turned green, snapping Chakotay out of the moment completely, as he jumped off Tom just quickly enough from him to puke on the ground beside them.

"Tom, are you alright?"

"Yeah," he reassured him quickly, still recovering from losing his lunch. "Just hit my head in the crash, Doc told me not to overexert myself."

Chakotay frowned. "You have a concussion?" Then worried, "Did you hit your head when we fell?"

"Woah, _Mom_ , I'm OK," said Tom forcing a light tone and pushing himself up despite the dizziness. Though he had to admit, it was lucky he hadn't wacked his head when Chakotay tackled him. Best not think about it. "Come on, we still need to find the others."

He held his hand out Chakotay to help him up, but before he could take it, a few shadows suddenly loomed over him.

A familiar woman with unkept hair smiled at them, completely ignoring the vomit around them as she stepped absently over it. "Oh good," she said. "We thought you might have gotten lost, Brothers."

They both glanced around seeing if there was an escape available, even with the 30 some odd people surrounding them, when a couple of the very large followers put their hands on their shoulders. 

"Alright, alright, we're coming," said Tom. "Just give it a minute for the room to stop spinning."

"But Brother, you're outside," frowned the woman.

Tom nodded. "Yeah, there too."

 

\---

 

Janeway, Neelix and Tuvok hadn't made it far when a young woman with short blonde hair poked her head out watching them. Neelix smiled at her. "Kes," he called. "Come here, I have friends I'd like you to meet."

Kes walked over cautiously, but she seemed to trust Neelix well enough. "This is Kathryn, and her friend Tuvok."

Janeway recognized and gave Kes a warm smile. "Hello, Kes."

"Hi," she said cautiously.

"We've lost some friends of ours." said Janeway. "A man and a woman. I don't suppose you've seen anybody unusual around here?"

Kes looked uncertain, but Neelix was looking at her encouraging. "It's alright," he said. "Kathryn's a good friend."

"There are two new children," said Kes finally. "A man and a woman, like you say. But they belong here now."

Janeway nodded slowly. "Can we see them?" she asked. "I'd just like to make sure they're alright if that's OK with you."

"I really shouldn't..." Kes started to say. 

"Just for a moment," said Janeway. "Just to say 'Hi'."

If she could just find out where they were being held, she thought, they could come back that night, and have them out before anyone even knew.

"I suppose..." said Kes. "If you're quick."

Janeway smiled, grateful. "Thank you."

\---

 

"Help!" Torres yelled at the top of her lungs. "Someone! We need help!" 

Not far, Kim was slumped against the wall, his cuffed wrists hanging limply above him. 

Finally one of the followers came in. "I don't know what happened," said Torres in a panic. "We were just talking and he suddenly lost consciousness. I don't think he's breathing. Do you think it's a reaction to the drugs?"

The follower in the white robe looked suspiciously at Torres, then walked up to Kim and checked to see if he was breathing, then his pulse. Kim didn't move. He still didn't when the follower slapped him lightly on the cheek, or when the follower splashed him with some water nearby.

"He needs a doctor," said Torres. "If he had a reaction to the drugs, he could die. At least take him to the Caretaker. Maybe he can help him."

The follower nervously checked Kim again. Just to be certain he was unconscious, and to Torres' delight, pulled a key out of his pocket and unlocked one of the cuffs. 

As soon as it slipped off however, Kim came to life and managed to take down the follower in less than five second flat. 

"Impressive," said Torres as Kim grabbed the key and freed himself completely before rushing over and uncuffing her too. She'd been there longer and her wrists were much redder than his, he winced when saw them.

"Come on," he said. "We don't have much time."

"One sec," said Torres grabbing Kim's arm. When Kim turned around to see what she wanted she leaned forward and gave him a quick peck on the lips. 

Kim blinked back, looking stunned.

"I'm sorry," said Torres. "I just really wanted to do that."

"But the names..." Kim started to say.

"I tried going by the names, and it really didn't get me anywhere." Torres practically spat thinking about it. "I say we go on our way, and screw a few markings on our arms."

Kim looked dazed for a moment, like the thought of just disregarding it had never occured to him. Then he grinned and kissed Torres back, much deeper and longer than the first kiss had been. "I hope we know what we're doing," he said to Torres after he pulled back. "This always goes so badly in the movies."

Just then the doors to the basement opened again, Torres and Kim turned around, ready to fight their way out if they had to, but to their surprise it was Janeway and Tuvok, with Kes and someone else they didn't know but didn't look like one of the sun followers.

"Colonel!" said Kim relieved. "Boy am I glad to see you."

 

\----

 

"So, I saved your life," said Tom, apparently not even deterred enough by their current situation to actually stop talking. "Isn't there some kind of Native American custom that says I own you now?"

Chakotay snorted. "Wrong tribe." Then, "isn't having your name permanently written across my arm enough?"

"You will like the caretakers, brothers," reassured the follower with the unkept hair. "And then you can join us."

Tom didn't miss the way Chakotay moved protectively closer, though he was sure Chakotay would deny it if he pointed it out.

Instead Tom looked around. "I think those fields are poppies," he said after a while. "How much do you want to bet this whole place is a front for making opium?"

But Chakotay didn't get a chance to answer, because at that moment they reached a giant building, and walked inside. There was the helicoptre they'd heard so much, surrounded by a few barrels of gasoline--one of which was leaking, Chakotay noticed stepping in a small puddle. 

They were led past that room into an office in the back where an old man with wispy white hair was working. He looked up frowning. "Daughter, what's going on?" he asked the lead follower. 

"Caretaker, we've found strangers," she said excitedly. "I have brought them to you that they might join us, and follow the sun."

The Caretaker squinted his eyes at Tom and Chakotay. "Yes, I see. And where did you two come from?"

"Oh we were just looking around," said Tom quickly. "Nice place you have here, really. Spacious."

The Caretaker just nodded and turned back to his followers. "Lock them up with the others."

"Wait? What kind of place is this?" demanded Chakotay suddenly, resisting the followers. "Whatever game this is, we're not playing."

The Caretaker frowned. "Stop him! He's hesterical!" he yelled to his followers.

Tom tried to follow, but a couple very large, very strong followers had grabbed him.

"You know what I think?" said Chakotay. "I think you use these poor brainwashed kids to make Heroin for you, and you smuggle it back to the cities where you sell it."

"Man," said Paris looking at the office work beside him, "He's got a whole list of contacts here. Not to mention bank account numbers, stocks, bonds. You seem like a very wealthy man, Mr Caretaker. And is that a lease for a new estate? Are you planning on abandoning these people?"

The followers, who didn't seem to be following their conversation up until that point suddenly got excited. "Abandoning us? Caretaker what is he talking talking about?"

"Children, maybe you should wait outside," said the Caretaker. "Let me deal with these two alone."

The followers seemed reluctant but eventually did what they were told. Tom thought maybe this was their break until he looked back and saw the Caretaker had pulled out a gun and had levelled it at Tom.

"Are you police?" he demanded. "Because I can make you both disappear. In case you haven't noticed there's no one else here. I can very easily make you both disappear."

"Alright," said Chakotay in his calmest voice. "Let's not do anything rash. We can talk about this."

"No," said the Caretaker keeping the gun leveled at Paris. "I think you two seem like you're way more trouble than you're worth."

"I think you might want to reconsider that," said Chakotay, and Tom heard the sound of someone striking a match.

The Caretaker turned nervously to see Chakotay standing over the gasoline puddle he was on before. If he were to drop that match, they'd probably have five seconds before the entire hanger exploded.

"Now, I'd put the gun down," said Chakotay. "Before I get nervous, and maybe accidentally drop something I don't want to."

"Alright now," said the Caretaker. "I'm setting the gun down." He crouched down slowly with the gun. "Nothing to rash, like you said."

"Alright, now let's all step out," said Chakotay slowly. "Come on."

They moved slowly back towards the door. Chakotay waited until both the Caretaker and Tom were out the door before he took a step back and said, "I'm sorry, but this whole practice is disgusting." and tossed the match back behind him.

It all happened very quickly. The Caretaker rushed back inside. "No, I need those papers!"

Chakotay tried to go after him.

Tom grabbed Chakotay and pulled him out at the last second yelling, "What the hell are you doing?"

And one explosion led to a second which led to a third, and pretty soon the entire hangar was up in flames, with Chakotay and Tom just barely out of harms way, watching it all happen in awe.

Once they'd both caught their breath, Tom looked back at Chakotay and sighed relieved. "That's two."

Chakotay just nodded.

 

\----

 

Kes arrived first, running up to the other followers in tears. "What happened?"

"That's a good question," said Janeway who wasn't far behind with the others, looking up at the burning hangar.

Chakotay saw Kim and Torres walking slowly behind them. "Lana!" he called rushing over to her and started checking her over furiously, pausing for a while on her wrists, a concerned frown on his face.

"I'm OK, really Chakotay," she said, though she looked shaken and exhausted, and was much more accepting than she would usually have been of Chakotay's mothering, but she did seem alright. Nothing a bit of rest wouldn't take care of.

Tom grinned when he saw Kim walk through behind her, looking a little frazzled, but no worse for wear otherwise, for his much shorter confinement. He smiled back, a bit weaker, but genuine. Then his attention, like everyone else's shifted to the hangar.

"Well, the bad news is we lost the helicopter," Tom explained to Janeway.

Janeway's attention moved to the crying followers nearby. "The caretaker?" she asked.

"He ran back in," said Paris, looking a little ill at the memory. "I think Chakotay just wanted to stop his operation." He shrugged. There wasn't much they could do about it now.

Janeway looked grim, but nodded in understanding.

"So, what do we do now?" asked Kim. 

"That is a very good question, Lieutenant," said Janeway.

 

\---

 

The sun was setting when Neelix brought Kes with the others back to the farm. The Doctor saw them first through the window and when he saw the small blonde woman wrapped in a warm blanket sitting up front beside Neelix, he dropped his glass and it shattered on the floor as he rushed outside to meet them.

Kes' eyes went wide, and Neelix had to stop the cart before she jumped off and hurt herself, rushing over to him, and letting him gather her in his arms. 

 

\---

 

Tom was outside. He was doing better, but still poorly enough that Janeway felt better with him staying with the Doctor, sleeping indoors where it was darker and on a nice bed. But it was morning now and he was feeling restless, so he'd gone for a walk outside. He was out watching the cows when someone else walked up and leaned on the wooden fence beside him.

"How's your head?" asked Janeway.

"Better," answered Tom honestly. "The Doc says I should be feeling much better in a few more days so long as I don't go rattling it around again like I did back at the Caretaker's compound."

"Good," said Janeway. "I've been talking to Chakotay. I'm impressed with how you handled yourself back there."

Tom shrugged it off, the compliment sitting uncomfortable and foreign in the pit of his stomach. 

"So what's going to happen now?" Tom asked, eager to change the subject.

"We still need to get back," said Janeway. "It's going to be a much longer trip now, 700 miles with only two horses between us, over hilly terrain. It will probably take months. We'll be setting out first thing tomorrow morning, to give you and Kes a bit more time to recover. The followers refuse to leave though, and Neelix insists he's happy out here, so we'll leave them behind for now, but we'll alert the proper authorities when we get home."

Tom nodded. "What about, Kes' tattooed? Is he coming too?"

"Zahir." Janeway shared his name. "No, he's refusing to leave just like the others." 

"They're going to be broken up," said Tom. "That's too bad."

"Neither seemed particularly bothered by it," said Janeway. "Sometimes, when people go through something traumatic together it can be a strain on their relationship. Though who knows, maybe one day they'll meet again and things can be different."

Tom rubbed his temple. "Maybe it's the concussion talking, but all this soul mate stuff just makes my head hurt. No one ever tells you what to do when it's not the perfect little romance you see in the movies. When do you stay and when do you walk away?"

He glanced off into the distance, where Janeway knew, behind those trees was the Maquis camp, and Chakotay getting his people ready to start on a long trek tomorrow.

"Let me show you something," said Janeway, taking her arm out of its sling and rolling up her sleeve, showing him the name, 'Michael Sullivan' written in large loopy letters on her arm. "I'm engaged," she told him. "To a man named Mark Johnson."

"What happened to Michael?" asked Tom.

"I don't know. The only Michael Sullivan I've ever seen was a character in a book about a small Irish town."

"Did you like him?"

Janeway shared a wry smile. "He drank too much, and he wasn't well educated enough." she told him. "And he was married to someone else."

"Bastard," said Tom.

"The point," Janeway continued getting back on topic, "is that that sometimes you just have to make your own way and hope it turns out for the best. I don't know if I'll be happy with Mark, I don't know if we'll be married for five years and Michael Sullivan's going to walk into my life and sweep me off my feet, or if I'll be widowed for ten and find him in the same seniors home. 

"I don't know if I'll meet him at all. But I'm forty-two years old, and I wish someone had told me when I was much younger that there's no point in waiting around for a fairy tale. If you want to be happy, whatever that happiness may be, you have to fight for it. That name on your arm isn't going to do the work for you."

Tom thought about that. "If you're supposed to just make your own choices anyways, why even have these names?" he asked.

Janeway raised an eyebrow. "That's a good question."

 

\----

 

The next morning, Tom mostly watched as everyone prepared to set out, having been told everytime he tried to help that he was supposed to be resting. It was the last time when Chakotay had threatened to tie him down that he'd gracefully stepped away and let everyone else just do their jobs. 

He was back in behind the cabin with the animals and out of the sunlight when Chakotay came back to find him. "We're almost ready to set off," he told him. "You should come back over, you're getting one of the horses."

"You're making me ride one of the horses?" asked Tom.

"Until the Doctor feels like you're doing well enough to be able to walk all day," said Chakotay firmly. Looking at Tom like he was ready to pick him up and carry him himself if he didn't cooperate. 

Tom capitulated. "But before we go, I think we need to talk," he said, leaning back against the cabin wall.

Chakotay frowned, "Tom..."

"This isn't going to go away," Tom continued. "And it looks like we're going to be together for a little while, so don't you think we should figure out what this is between us?"

Chakotay's face softened, but looked no less pained, "Tom, I admit, there seems to be more to you than you let on. You're a good man."

"How is it that you sound like you're breaking up with me when we're not even together?"

"I just don't want to kiss you because you happen to have my name written across your arm," Chakotay continued, undeterred.

"Then don't kiss me because of the tattoos," said Paris. "Kiss me because if we didn't have them, it's what you'd want to do right now."

Chakotay looked back at Tom surprised at the accusation, but he didn't deny it. "We barely know each other. These past couple days proved that."

"I'm not asking you to marry me," said Tom, pushing himself off the wall so he was only a few inches away from Chakotay. Then he added softly, "It's just a kiss."

Chakotay's gaze seemed to have moved from Tom's eyes to his lips. "Just a kiss." he repeated, considering. And then he did, he leaned in, slowly, just his lips, keeping his hands to himself, and kissed Tom softly on the lips, sending an unexpected electic shock through both of them. Cautiously he deepened the kiss. Tom gratefully opened to him, and it was only then that Chakotay seemed to relax, his hand went up and brushed through Tom's hair and he started kissing him properly. 

"Just a kiss." Chakotay repeated when they finally separated. "Some kiss."

Tom grinned and immediately kissed him again.


End file.
